


Taste For It

by autoeuphoric (FreezingRayne)



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Fluff, Hanging Out, Humanstuck, M/M, Making Out, Netflix and Chill, Popcorn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-28
Updated: 2015-09-28
Packaged: 2018-04-23 18:21:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,081
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4886989
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FreezingRayne/pseuds/autoeuphoric
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There’s totally nothing gay about snuggling up to your bro when it’s cold out, okay. Just guys sharing body heat. Dudes keeping warm.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Taste For It

**Author's Note:**

> an anon requested humanstuck davekat Netflix and chill, and who am i to resist such an ideal and basically canon scenario?

“Dude, come the fuck on.” You yell into the void of the hallway to the distant warmth of kitchen light. “Chill out with the snack science. There is no golden ratio of butter to salt. Get your ass in here.”

The floor creaks and the _swish-swish_ of sweatpants sails in on a cloud of fresh, greasy magic. Karkat is armed with a plastic bowl and a half-full bottle of generic brand cola. He drops the bottle on you. It rolls down your knee and onto the couch.

“That shit is heinous” he says. “It smells like chemicals and tastes like chemicals. And I think it’s sugar-free.”

“Don’t knock the sugar-free.” You flip back the blanket and smooth your t-shirt across your bony ribs. “Do you think this flawlessness comes naturally? This is hours of lifting and parkour and a strict diet. I be up in the gym just working on my fitness. All for you, dude, wanna look good for my bro—.”

Karkat bounces an IKEA pillow off the side of your head and plants himself next to you, popcorn in bowl, bowl on lap. “Shut the fuck up and put this in your face hole.” 

You grin and straighten your shades. “Kay.” You follow orders and chew with your mouth open.

Karkat mumbles weary disgust and wakes his phone up to check the time. A little square of light imprints against his throat. He frowns. 

“Chill,” you tell him. “My bro doesn't get home till late.”

“Last time he came early.”

“Yeah, but he brought pizza.”

Karkat snorts. “The international currency.”

“He won’t hassle us.” Another snort. “Okay, yeah, he will. But I’ll handle him.”

A couple raindrops hit the window, but the storm hasn’t really started yet. The clouds are flying by like they’re late for a bus, the room going from dark to light, light to dark. Karkat’s skin looks almost grey in the weird storm-light. He’s scowling, pissy because it’s your turn to pick the movie, which means no romantic comedy hijinks. You tap over to the action/adventure section and Karkat starts to swear. You press your freezing toes against his leg just to drive home your victory. He hisses and smacks at you.

“Cut it out, douchelord.”

“Can’t. Processes going offline. Must seek warmth and sustenance.” You scoop another handful of popcorn. 

The heater is threatening to pull a nuclear meltdown and your bro doesn’t want it turned on until it gets cold by his standards, which by your standards means your balls turning into icicles. Ballcicles. So all you can do is pile yourself with afghans that smell like someone’s grandma (not yours—you don’t have a grandma) and Karkat, who always runs hot. Probably from the amount he runs his mouth. Leaning against him is like putting your back to a stocky, sweater-wrapped furnace. 

There’s totally nothing gay about snuggling up to your bro when it’s cold out, okay. Just guys sharing body heat. Dudes keeping warm.

“Ok no, fuck you,” Karkat says as you cycle through the movies. “Fuck. Your. Self.” One syllable for every one you pause on. You find perfection and hit select.

“You’re fucking joking.”

“I don’t joke about Wesley Snipes, dude. Wesley Snipes is the man.” 

Karkat makes a strangled noise that also sounds like he’s puking. “I’m going to need something stronger than diet coke to get through this.”

“Well, we could jack something of my bro’s but I guarantee you he’s only got Bud Light and flavored Smirnoff.” For maximum fratboy ironies. 

The opening credits come up and you slide your thigh against Karkat’s, savoring the warmth. Your hand brushes his side, feeling his breath stutter and shift up a decibel. He smells like the golden ratio of Oldspice and dude.

“Stop it, you handsy son of a bitch.”

“Hmm?”

You flick your shades off and drop them into his lap. Cheat code to get him to look at you. “I thought you weren’t interested in this cinematic masterpiece. Thought you’d prefer a masterpiece of the flesh.”

“Maybe. Tell me if you see one.”

You clutch at your heart to let him know just how wounded you are, and kiss his jaw below his ear. He shivers a little, but he’s resolutely ignoring you, eyes on the screen. Despite the bitching, Karkat takes movie-watching very seriously, even for movies he’s preemptively decided he doesn’t like.

You move your hand to his thigh, rubbing your thumb in little circles. He makes a very slight, bitten-off sound. You lick at the soft, salty spot beneath his ear, sucking lightly on the pressure point and fuck yeah, that gets a reaction, a slow, rolling shiver. It’s fucking cheating, and you don’t care.

“If you don’t get your shit together I’m just going to keep doing this.” You suck another wet bite into his neck. “Just slobbering all over you like a happy Doberman puppy, all thrilled to see his master and shit—.”

He grabs you by the hair and kisses you and _nnnnrg_ hot. You lick at his mouth and straddle his lap. 

“Hey—!” Karkat delivers the popcorn bowl from disaster, but only barely. “Keep your floppy appendages under control, fuckwit!”

“It ain’t so floppy right now, baby,” you smirk against his mouth, drawing out the words, going nasal on the vowels. Don’t mess with Texas. You drag said appendage against his thigh.

“You are gloriously disgusting,” Karkat says, but he kisses you anyway. Okay, so this part of your movie weekends might be a little gay. The time you both fell asleep during _The Return of the King_ and ended up spooning on the couch may have been too. You rub his dick through his sweatpants and he gasps into your mouth, biting at your bottom lip, making it sting. He has one hand pushed up under your shirt, the other moving down to your ass.

“Just guys being dudes,” you say. He looks at you like you’re insane, and that just makes you laugh. You muffle it against his collarbone, and then tug him down until you’re both horizontal. Usually you can make it through at least half the movie before you get to this stage, but screw it. Not like there’s a fucking schedule.

\--  
" _Late night watching television/_  
But how'd we get in this position/  
It's way too soon, I know this isn't love/  
But I need to tell you something /  
I really, really, really, really, really like you." 

_-"I Really Like You", Carly Rae Jepson_

**Author's Note:**

> This is so short and nebulous that i almost didn't post it here. these two make me so gross and fluffy jesus christ. 
> 
> thanks to shaples for the beta!! 
> 
> my homestuck blog is quadrantconfusion on tumblr!


End file.
